The Day That Summer Died
From all around the mourners came
The day that Summer died,
From hill and valley, field and wood
And lane and mountainside.
They did not come in funeral black
But every mourner chose
Gorgeous colours or soft shades
Of russet, yellow, rose.
Horse chestnut, oak and sycamore
Wore robes of gold and red;
The rowan sported scarlet beads;
No bitter tears were shed.
Although at dusk the mourners heard,
As a small wind softly sighed,
A touch of sadness in the air
The day that Summer died.
Vernon Scannell 1922-2007
Here is the mid-Hudson valley it has been warmer than late August and plenty of green amid the creeping autumn colors.
And a tribe of turkeys has been on the move. Full headcount: 14.
Our visiting turkeys have shunned us this year. I used to love watching them strolling through the property as if they owned it I hope they will return.
I think we were both doing readings in a school or schools, along with other poets/writers – some
small festival paid for with Arts Council money. Vernon enthralled the children with his poems. I read from my books and we both answered lots of questions!
Gwen.
I absolutely love the Vernon Scannell poem. I worked with him for a while with the Arts Council,
He was a superlative poet.
Gwen.
That’s so interesting – that you knew him. I don’t know much about Scannell and only know a few of his poems. He strikes me as such an interesting character – so full of contradictions. I think I have to make a point of reading more about him and certainly more of his work.